Hi guys! I'm back, and so is chapter four of this story!! It took a little longer than I would have liked, but that's because a lot happens in this chapter….

.you'll see what I mean. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this—I like it, even though it was a bit harder to write than the last three were.

oh! A shoutout to my friend, hurkydoesntknow, for helping me with Kelso's "assignment" in the beginning of this chapter!

And remember: review review review!! :D

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Dr. Cox's POV

"Make this quick Bob, I don't have all day." I snap as I follow the old man into his office. He doesn't reply; he just keeps on walking until he reaches his desk—not only ignoring my comment but obviously expecting me to shut the door behind us. Damn that pisses me off.

"Perry, the longer you stand there hating this, the longer you're going to be in here." I hear him say, and though my lip curls at his remark, I keep my mouth shut and slam the door.

"Well, are you going to sit down?" Kelso asks, gesturing to the chair conveniently placed on the other side of his desk. He pushes it towards me with his feet—wow his shoes look expensive—and it's then I realize the only way out of this, no matter how much it pains me, is to consent and listen to what he has to say. So even though every ounce of my being is screaming in protest, I reluctantly take the seat opposite him and prepare myself for whatever heinous speech I just know Kelso is going to make. I cross my arms, impatiently waiting for him to start.

Oh how I wish I was somewhere—anywhere—else. I may not be afraid of Bob like some of the other girls in this dump, but that doesn't change the fact that he is constantly getting on my nerves. Hell, I can hardly stand working in the same hospital let alone sit in the same—

"Oh stop making faces; it's not going to be that bad."

"Hm?" Faces? Me? No….n—actually, it's possible. I was on the verge of zoning out much like Janice does on a daily basis, and I do hate Kelso with a violent passion and, as I was thinking about it there is indeed a chance I could be emphasizing my thoughts with various facial expressions.

"I will do whatever the hell I want." I decide to clarify, before leaning back in my chair, "that aside, how about you hurry up and get this nonsense over with so I can go back to how'd you say "torturing other people?""

If it were anyone else in this hospital, I know I'd have received a reaction somewhere between a slap across the face—to which I'd have to senselessly beat them after—or a sharp, verbal retaliation. However, Bob and I have been at each other's throats for the past twenty years, so he's learned—and this goes both ways—to ignore any remark I may say that would have once gotten under his skin.

At least, for the most part.

"Perry," he begins, his hands interlaced on his desk, "the reason I asked you in here is because there's something important I need you to do for me."

I envision myself rolling my eyes. "Ya mentioned that earlier." I remind him, even though I know he wasn't forgotten, "but I'm still sitting on the edge of my seat wondering just what could be so important that you chose to assign it to little ol' me??" Bothered by it or not, I really can't refrain from using sarcasm when around Kelso. He has this….vibe….about him that practically begs me to mock him. Of course, so does everyone else I come across, but Bobbo here is slightly different. Maybe it's because, while I thoroughly enjoy getting under his skin, I know he can take it. All this crap I give him—if he were actually upset by it, things wouldn't be nearly as fun.

Plus, there's no way any come back he manages to make will ever catch me by surprise—

"The reason I 'chose' you, Dr. Cox, is because of your….talent….breaking in new doctors."

—Or not. "Come again?" I ask, not sure if I was hearing him correctly. "Did you say "new doctors?""

His eyebrow raised; his face curling into that irritating smile—like he knows his upcoming explanation is going to piss me off. "That's right, I did. Although to be precise, it's only one new doctor. I need you to pick him up at that quaint little café a few blocks away from the hospital. See, his car broke down, and as he's still recuperating from a knee surgery he had last month, the only way he'd make it here today—I need to see if he's the right man for the job before he permanently settles in—was if someone picked him up and drove him."

There's no volume, but I can tell he's silently laughing at me. "So of course, you were the natural selection, what with that hot-shot Porsche of yours parked out front, and your superior attitude as a doctor."

My jaw muscles start clenching and my eyes widen to their full extent, anger rising in my chest as Kelso's words sink in. "What. The hell, Bob!" I scream, banging my fist hard against the surface of his desk. The photos and papers on the table fly an inch or so in the air, but the old bastard doesn't flinch.

"Something wrong?" He questions, grinning victoriously. Damn it Kelso!

"You mind telling me what the hell you're doing?! And more importantly, why?!"

The damned son of a bitch still doesn't flinch; he just cocks his head to side and says "Why what? The new doctor?" His eyes narrow "or the fact that I'm sending you to go pick him up?"

"First of all, we don't need another dumbass doctor roaming the halls of this hell-hole you call a hospital! You said so yourself that we're overstaffed and because of that combined with the amount of cash you continuously spend on yourself I'm guessing there isn't enough money left to scrape together a decent paycheck let alone pay this guy full-time." Dammit I am so mad right now! "Secondly," I continue, "I am not nor will I ever be somebody's chauffer. I am—as you already stated—a doctor; one of the best too I might add. And there is absolutely no way I'd ever stoop so low as to drive around some idiot whose ranked lower than I am."

Kelso leans forward then, meeting my glare with one of his own. "Look—this soon to be employee is very important to me and Sacred Heart—at least, he will be—so despite my reasons and yes, I do have reasons, you will do what I say, like it or not. Got it?"

My fingernails dig into the wooden surface, and it's all I can do to prevent myself from lunging across the desk and strangling that fat little neck of—

"U-Um….Dr. Kelso?"

Now distracted, the old bastard looks at the door, and the nervous voice coming from behind it.

Damned interns—I'm more than positive that's whose on the other side of that door—with the exception of Ted, no one stutters when addressing Kelso anymore; afraid or not.

Definitely a rookie mistake.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure you can deal with it on your own!" He responds, dismissing the younger doctor. Typically, I'd bust his chops about it, but quite frankly, interns annoy the hell outta me.

"B-But s-sir…." Dammit, he's—the voice is male—still there. Maybe after strangling Kelso, I'll go after him. "There's um….a….problem….down in the lab and uh…."

"I'm sure it's nothing you and some of the others can't handle." He's no longer looking at the door—his interest is apparently gone.

So is mine, actually.

We wait for a moment, previous dispute temporarily forgotten—listening and wondering if whoever was behind the door had left. I hope so. To be honest, I'd rather go toe to toe with old Bobbo then have to put up with—

"A-actually….um….things are….uh, well….I-I really think you should….um, uh c-come down there—because….er…."

"Alright alright!" Kelso cries, cutting off and shutting up the nervous intern. "Just hold on a minute."

He throws me a look, and that knot of rage tightens in my chest. "I'm not opening the door for him." I state "I'm just not."

Kelso frowns. "You're closer." He protest, nodding towards it. Dammit, he's right.

Reluctantly, I get out of my chair and reach for the door handle, hearing the quick, loud breaths of the intern from behind it. Hating the fact that I know Kelso's loving every minute of this; I turn the knob and open the door—now staring face to face with a young, dark-haired, male doctor.

Averting his gaze from me, the intern looks instead at the bastard still sitting at his desk.

"Er…um….s-sir?" Holy crap will you stop with the stuttering?!

"Oh don't worry, sport," I hear Kelso say. "Dr. Cox here is going to accompany you to the lab. That's why he's standing in the doorway."

What?! Why that—

"Isn't that right, Perry?"

I whirl back around, glaring daggers at him. We're locked in a staring contest for a minute or two, until a nervous throat clear from the intern breaks it, and I'm forced to make a decision.

Gritting my teeth to stop myself from audibly protesting, I turn to the intern, and mutter sharply "let's go."

He nods, but remains silent—sensing how annoyed I am. Smart kid.

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Dr. Cox's POV (continued)

Time passes quickly, and before I know it, we're standing in front of the lab. This could be because the entire way down I kept fantasizing the many ways I could enact my revenge on Kelso—all of which, unfortunately, ended up with him dead and me behind bars— or because the intern before me thought I just might murder him if he stopped moving. Whatever the reason, I don't really care. I just want to straighten this whole thing out before I actually am tempted to kill the stuttering idiot standing to my right.

"Well?" I bark, snapping my head in his direction, "Did you lead me down here just for kicks, or is there a legitimate reason for it?"

"Yes well….I told you….there's a disturbance and—"

"Disturbance disturbance—you mind telling me what it is that was so over your head ya couldn't take care of it on your own?"

The intern is now throwing nervous glances at the lab door. Come to think of it, we're not directly in front of it, but off to the side. That's….that's odd.

"In there…."

Now he's pointing at the door. What the hell is going on here? "Mind showing me?" I ask, my patience ticking away for each second I spend conversing with this guy. However, he shakes his head, and takes a step back. My eyelid twitches. Is he for real? "Forget it." I growl, continuing on my own.

That's what I hate about interns; they've dug themselves so far into their comfort zone that as soon as something unexpected comes their way they freeze up and expect us more experienced doctors to deal with it for them.

I'm in front of the door now—back to being as pissed as I was earlier—and searching for whatever it is that damn kid thought was so….

….holy shit. Holy shit.

The entire room is completely destroyed. Tables are over turned, the computers are not only sprawled across the ground but some of them are actually broken, chairs are everywhere….and the rest of the lab equipment has either been shattered or thrown all over the floor.

And there's blood everywhere.

What….what the hell happened in here?! It's like a hurricane passed through or somethi—

It's then I notice a shaking figure hunched over one of the still standing tables at the far end of the room. I can tell—for obvious reasons—that he's male, though he's unnaturally thin….and his skin has an unhealthy tone to it. He's leaning heavily on the table, clutching his head with his hands….hands that, as I look closer, have been badly torn at the knuckles—damn I think part of the bone is exposed—and some of the fingers look distorted.

Has this guy been physically beating the equipment?

I don't even have to answer that. Of course he has. There's no other explanation.

But….

….a lump forms in my throat, and I can make a painful guess as to why he did it….even though, the last time I checked….I—

Hang on. What's that sound? My ears tune in to my surroundings, for the first time realizing that the silence I once thought inhabited this place was in fact, being interrupted by harsh—though at the same time pitiful—noises.

I….I don't believe this. He's crying, too? What kind of….

Oh no. No. Those light blue scrubs—worn over a long-sleeved shirt, that dark, well-kept hair….that scrawny—though now more than usual—body….

The lump drops to my stomach as it hits me….hard.

I know that man.

"N-Newbie?" I ask, too shocked to keep the stammer out of my voice. Oh please let me be mistaken….please let it be someone else….

I have no such luck, as he immediately spins around—so fast I'm almost sure he'll fall over. "Newbie, what the—"

But when his gaze meets mine, the words die in my throat. His eyes….they're blotchy and red….tears pouring down the sides of his sunken face….and there's a wild….almost foreign….look in each one—like a part of him doesn't even recognize me….or what he's just done.

It's like staring into the eyes of a crazy man.

"Why the…." I managed, failing to cover up my alarm at the situation "….the hell did you do this?!"

He jumps, hiccupping as he continues to cry—dammit, I guess I sounded a little too harsh. But how am I supposed to react? I've never seen him act this way before. It's so…so….

It's then, right as I trying to figure out what I can say to fix this that he decides to move. Eyes locked straight ahead—though passing right through me—he quickly moves towards the door.

I try again to say something—anything—but he's out the door before I have the chance; jabbing his shoulder into mine has he goes.

I'd kill him for that.

But it wouldn't be right.

Not like this.

I stand there for a minute or two, hands behind my head, before taking a deep breath and going after him.

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JD's POV

I hate Dr. Cox. I hate Sacred Heart.

I hate my life.

It's been what—not even a full work day? Something like that—and I've not only been convinced no one cares about me but now I've got actual proof.

He yelled at me.

I completely lost control in the lab and he yelled at me. No sympathetic look; no "JD, are you okay?" And—though this I half expected—no hug. He just….just stood there, and as usual, called me "Newbie" and flipped when he saw me.

Damn you, Perry.

I mean, yes I destroyed a lot of equipment, but is that the only thing you noticed? What about….what about me? Didn't you even see me? The….the condition I was in?

Am….am still….in?

"Sh-shit…." I mutter, burying my head further in my lap. It hurts so much….this—this feeling in my chest. Of….of abandonment….betrayal….

….more than the amount of physical pain I'm in. My back still hurts, I can't walk properly without my knee throbbing, and if I even move my hands slightly, a sharp twinge of agony goes shooting through my fingers. Chances are, I probably broke something.

But I don't really care.

I let out a sob then, pulling my body closer to the wall of the hospital. I can't take this anymore. It's too hard….too painful….Dammit! It feels like my heart's been ripped right out of my body.

….I wish.

I'd….I'd honestly rather be….be….dead….then have to put up with this. To have to suffer all alone like I'm doing….hell, if I were standing on the hospital roof I most likely would have already jumped—and there's that stab of fear again; the last remaining bit of common sense I have….and the only reason I'm not standing on the roof right now, saying my final goodbyes to the world. Instead, I'm sitting against the wall of the building—by the parking lot but off to the side. I needed somewhere to go….away from them….and this was the only place I could think of that didn't come with any sort of….temptation….

Sure, there are cars and other vehicles—I can see them as I look up—but most of them are parked and—

—Hey, who's that?

There's a….a kid?....wandering around the parking lot. That's a bit strange. Why would a kid be….

"Jack, stay by the car, sweetie. I just need to put your sister in her seat and then I'll help you, okay?"

My stomach churns. That's Jordan's voice. Which means the little brat in the street is her—and Dr. Cox's—son, Jack.

The feeling in my stomach turns to revulsion as I stare furiously at the little boy. That damned kid of that damned son of a bitch I was stupid enough to call "my mentor." It's not fair. Why should he be the one with a connected family? Why should he get to see his son—and daughter—every single day after work?

Why does he get to be happy and I don't?

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Dr. Cox's POV

I am going to kill Bob Kelso. And I mean that this time. Prison or not, that bastard has some nerve. Forcing me down here….I told him about….what happened in the lab….and Newbie….but it doesn't change his mind and now I'm sitting in my car gripping the existence out of my steering wheel, as I pull out of my parking space.

I swear Bob….if Newbie does something stupid while I'm gone….I'll….

Well, I may just have to act on one or more of my fantasies from earlier. Hell, I definitely will.

Now fuming, I slam my foot on the gas pedal. Oh I'll pick up this new doctor….but it won't be in the manner old Bobbo will approve of.

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JD's POV

Fresh tears are streaming down my face, but I can't take my eyes off Jack. I don't know what it is about him; maybe it's how much he looks like Perry, even though he's just a kid….maybe it's that he's reminding me of all the changes my own son will go through as he gets older….changes that I'll probably miss….

….or it could be because of the car driving towards him waaaay over the speed limit.

Wait, what?!

Wiping my eyes on my sleeve, I make sure I'm not seeing things….

….I'm not. Dammit.

Well….it's nothing to worry about, right? The driver will probably notice the kid and put on the breaks or something….

….provided they're able to stop a car moving at that speed. Of course, Jordan could always pull him out of the way….but she's distracted with her daughter. Most likely won't realize her son's in potential danger until it's too late.

Argh, why the hell do I keep poking holes in my theories?!

I watch for a few more seconds; my eyes shifting to the car, Jack, and Jordan, hoping something will happen to affect the outcome I know is coming. Doesn't matter who….just one of them….the driver….Jordan….even the boy. Just….Just something to tip the scales….so I know whether to get involved or not….

I'm suddenly reminded of my early days as a resident; how, when left alone one night, Turk, Elliot and I couldn't decide which method of treatment to use on a patient whose vitals remained the same. We kept hoping they'd either go up or down….that the decision would be made for us….so we wouldn't have to live with any repercussions that might….

....and then, something happens that I don't expect. Whatever self-pity I'd been wallowing in abruptly clears, my body snaps into action— and I find myself racing towards the boy in the middle of the street. It doesn't matter what self-doubt I'm feeling. I'm not going to revert back to the way I was six years ago. I'm a doctor—I make decisions….and—more importantly—I save lives. Including his….

….I know it's going to hurt, but that isn't really important right now. With an effort, I'm there, right in the heat of things, and before he even realizes it, I shove Jack Cox out of the way, just as a searing pain erupts in each of my hands. I immediately retract my arms, and am in the process of keeling over; swearing viciously.

However….that's the last thing out of my mouth….as any other words I could have possibly thought of were cut off as a fountain of blood spills from my mouth….something launching itself into my torso.

Sh-shit….was t-that the….

I feel the surface around me disappear—I must be in the air now—but it's short lived, as I'm suddenly thrown to the ground. Ah damn….everything's spinning around me….I can't even think straight….

My back hits the ground first, and it's then I'm aware of the burning agony in my chest. Shit, what just happened to me?! Did I—

But as soon as my head bangs against the gravel, it suddenly becomes harder to focus….my senses seem blinded by the stinging sensation at the back of my head. As I lay there, frozen in a state of shock and pain, my surroundings start growing fuzzy….little black spots appearing before my eyes.

The last thing I hear before losing consciousness is two….no three….voices; all headed in my direction. One's Jordan's, who's calling the name of her son….the second voice—and though I can't tell, he seems to be safe….

The third voice though, is the farthest away, and even though I struggle to make it out, my body can't take it anymore….

….and just as I pass out, I'm surprised by how familiar it sounds….

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Dr. Cox's POV

"Shit shit shit!" I scream, slamming the breaks of my Porsche. That was my son—just then—standing in the road….I swear it….my Jackie-boy....was right there, right in front of me….

My heart is pounding relentlessly in my chest, and my stomach squirms.

I almost killed my son. I almost killed my son! Shit!

The car's stopped finally, and I struggle with the damned door handle until I nearly pull it off, before realizing it was locked. Frantically, I unlock and shove the door open, nearly tripping as I wrestle my seat belt and get out of the car.

Dammit where is he?! Where's Jack?! Beads of sweat dot my forehead and my throat tightens with fear.

"JACK?!" I call, anxiously searching around. Shit, maybe….maybe I did actually hit—

"What the fuck, Perry!!"

I turn. "J-Jordan?"

Sure enough, she's running this way, her dark eyes blazing with distress and disbelief. "Do you know what you almost did?! Are you that preoccupied that you didn't even see our son right in front of you?!"

She's mad….but I don't blame her. I really don't….hold on….she said "almost." That means….

I notice then that Jordan's attention has been drawn away from me, and following her not only with my eyes but with actual movement, that surge of terror loosens around my throat, when I see that she's kneeling off to the side, her arms wrapped around a crying—but alive—four year old boy. Oh thank goodness. He's okay. Jack's okay. Which means that I must have hit….

….that other guy….

"Dammit!" I shriek, rushing past my ex-wife and son to the front of my Porsche, and the last place I briefly saw the figure who saved my son's life. Although I'm eternally grateful for their services, it feels….a little hollow….after all, I was driving unusually fast—can't be helped, I was pissed—but even so, anyone hit by my car at that speed is not going to come away unscathed. I just hope whoever it was isn't dead….or fatally injured….that would only add unwanted guilt to the amount I'm already….

….Oh shit! SHIT!

My eyes widen, and suddenly, I'm absolutely petrified. No….no no no!

Instantly, I'm down on my knees, my hands on the shoulders of the man lying before me. "N-Newbie?" I ask, nudging him slightly. He doesn't move. "Newbie! Wake up!" I try shaking him again, but stop when I notice the amount of blood staining his scrubs. And, as I look closer—his hair. Dammit! A head wound….shit this is bad….and to make matters worse, the 'stain' I first saw on his scrubs shirt is gradually increasing….dammit. If he keeps bleeding like this, he won't last long. He's already so pale he could be….

My heart starts hammering again, each beat punctuated by my growing alarm, and now I'm hastily trying to find a pulse.

"Come on, JD…." I whisper, before holding my breath and checking for any possible sign he's still alive. "stay with me here…."

For a second, I feel nothing, and I'm hit with a violent wave of panic….

….wait….

Found it.

He does have one, but it's so faint....

Instantly, I stand up; looking for any other hospital personal in the parking lot I can send inside to get a stretcher and some extra hands….all the while trying to keep my senses. This is not good. JD needs help. Now.